


Xena: Reborn [[ABANDONED ]]

by GirlwhoLived



Category: Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: Amazons - Freeform, Ares will appear, F/F, Gabrielle - Freeform, New series, Rating May Change, Reboot, lesbians in love, possible evil xena, xena - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-22 21:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7454554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlwhoLived/pseuds/GirlwhoLived
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty years after she sacrificed herself in Japa, Xena wakes up in a Grecian temple. But the Warrior Princess has come back in her teenage body, and none recognize her save for one: a young farmer who dreams of so much more. It was he and his friends brought her back so that she might save Greece in it's time of need.<br/>All Xena wants to do is find Gabrielle, but first there are questions that needs answers -- who really brought her back? And why?<br/>-x-<br/>Basically I am super worried (excited??) about this reboot thing. So this is what I would like to see happen. I am hoping that they will pay tribute to the original series (haha they won't) and not make it too dark or you know, into another pathetic reboot. Honestly this is just a therapeutic exercise for myself.<br/>-Updates will be sparse-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Episode 1

Dusk falls over an old, abandoned temple. The floor is overgrown with grass and young trees, their branches peeking through the fallen stone. The only thing remaining is a large stone table, an altar to a forgotten god.

On the stone table lies a naked young woman.

With a gasp she wakes and sits up. A breeze whisks some of her long dark hair. A hand moves to her chest, and after a moment lowers back to the table.

Slowly she looks down, the fading light revealing her body. Swinging her legs over, the woman studies the ruined temple. Not far from her is a large incense burner. Though unlit, the urn is black, and ashes drift from it.

Her back straightens and the woman gracefully steps down from the table. At her feet are folded clothes, dark and plain. There is also a sword.

The woman picks up the clothes and silently leaves the temple. The sword remains.

* * *

 

The tavern was old and worn, as were most of the patrons inside. The main light came from the open door, revealing a bright day outside. But if you came in here it was to escape the beating sun. It was to escape everything, really.

Acacius picked at the food before him, lost in thought. He meant to spend all his money here; there was little need of it now. The fates could not be more clear -- he was going to be stuck in this sad, little village forever.

Glancing around, he took another gulp of ale; the gnarled, old men were a stark reminder of his future. But he did not want to become one of them.

A shadow blocked the sunlight, and Acacius glanced at the doorway. Maybe Jem and the others had finally returned. But what he saw caused him to spill his drink.

A young woman stood in the doorway, inspecting the tavern for a moment before heading to the bar. A few male patrons had glanced her way, but none lingered. Acacius however, could not look away.

A dark blue dress fell to her ankles, and while it may have been longer once, it was now uneven and frayed. The slit up the side seemed deliberate, however, and it gave Acacius a hint of her long legs and bare feet. The lack of jewelry or paint said she was not a priestess. They occasionally passed through the village on their way to Delphi. No, this was someone else.

Her dark hair hung long and free about her shoulders, and it swayed gently as she walked. Despite her ragged clothing, this was a woman who stood out. She was not very tall, around his height, but he could tell that she was strong and agile. Why she had come into this sad tavern was beyond him, but Acacius was glad she had.

By the time Acacius had gathered enough courage the tavern had emptied to only a few other patrons. And those fools were deep into their drink. They did not recognize the gift that had arrived in the form of the young woman.

His sword scraped the bench as he sat, but she had spotted him far before that, watching him come over. Her blue eyes did not blink as he sat across from her.

Swallowing, Acacius finally opened his mouth.

The wooden bowl near his hand rang out, startling him. Another seed husk followed, and he met the woman’s eyes, as she casually popped another in her mouth, smirking.

“I know who you are.”

Her only reaction was to spit another husk into the bowl, never taking her eyes off him. He sounded nervous. Acacius grit his teeth, now was not the time to make a fool of himself.

“Do you now?”

Her voice was not anything like he expected. It was deep and melodious, and Acacius understood how so many men had fallen under her spell. She had the looks of a siren, why not the voice to match?

“You’re the Warrior Princess,” he whispered, “Xena.”

She raised an eyebrow, smirking again.

“The Warrior Princess has been dead twenty years.”

Licking his lips, Acacius shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re her. And you’ve come back.”

She chewed on a seed, eyes never leaving his,

“And what makes you so sure?”

Acacius stared at her. “Everyone knows the tales of the Warrior Princess. You’re a legend. And legends always return.”

The smile faded from her face, and she suddenly looked much older.

“What’s your name?”

Caught off guard, Acacius straightened, hand on his sword.

“Acacius. My friends call me Acacius the Mighty.”

This brought the smirk back to her face.

“No they don't.”

Blustering, Acacius fumbled for a response. But she only waved her hand, spitting another husk into the bowl.

“Tell me, Acacius. What makes you think I’m her? You are too young to have met the Warrior Princess when she was alive.”

Swallowing, Acacius shrugged, “the stories. The bards are always telling stories of your great deeds. They are as common as the tales of Hercules -- or even the Gods.”

A shadow passed over her face as he said this, but she said nothing.

“Why did you return? Who brought you back? Was it one of the Gods?”

Her glare silenced him, and he glanced around the tavern nervously. Had he been too loud?

“I thought you knew the stories... Xena and the gods never quite got along. Why would any of them bring her back?”

Stroking the rim of her mug, the Warrior Princess held his gaze.

Of course he knew the tales! He knew them better than anyone! She was trying to confuse him, but he was adamant. This woman was Xena. Why wouldn’t she just admit who she was?

“But if it wasn’t the gods --” his jaw dropped, “You don’t know how you got back?”

Her jawline tightened, but Xena did not respond. Hiding his nerves, he cautiously reached for his ale.

Like a snake, her hand shot out and grabbed his arm. Taking hold of his left hand, she pulled his arm over the table. Acacius had to remember to breathe as she studied his palm in the dim tavern light.

Just as suddenly she released him, and Acacius resisted the desire to inspect his hand as he sat back on the bench. Her expression revealed nothing. Instead she leaned forward, chin resting in her hands.

“Say I am her, the Xena of legend. What do you want of me?”

Acacius shook his head, “W-what?”

“What brought you over to my table?”

She smiled and Acacius was at a loss for words.

“The return of the Warrior Princess would be valuable information. You could make a fortune.”

Acacius slammed his hands onto the table, fighting off her siren call.

“No, no! I want to join you -- to serve you. You need a side-kick, and I will be that person. I will gladly fight beside you.”

Her blue eyes darkened, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

“Who said anything about fighting?”

Once again Acacius was tripping over his tongue, “You’re Xena. It’s what you do. I-I mean why else would you have been brought back?”

Leaning back, Xena absently drummed her fingers on the table.

“Good question.”

Acacius held back a grin.

Taking a sip of her ale, Xena ignored him. Setting the wooden mug down, she met his gaze again, tracing the lip of the mug with her finger. After a moment, she spoke, and it made him shiver hearing his name on her lips.

“So Acacius, you want to be a soldier? You want to fight?”

Chest puffed out, he nodded, “yes!”

“Have you ever killed a man?”

“Yes.”

She smirked again, but her eyes had lost their humor.

“No you haven’t,” her blue eyes bore into his, “You may have been in a fight or two... but you haven’t taken a life.”

Her glare silenced his protest.

Xena nodded to his side, “your sword. And your hand, that’s what gave you away. You have the calluses of a farmer. Not a soldier.”

His hand tightened on the hilt.

“It’s mine.” Acacius flinched at how childish he sounded.

She took another sip of her ale, tipping it back.

“You may have found it, but you don’t know how to use it,“ Xena shook her head, “A sword like that will only bring you trouble.”

He glared at her, “I can handle myself.”

Her expression was unreadable. But he refused to look away.

After a moment she held out her hands.

Nervously he unsheathed his sword, and passed it over the table.

Balancing the sword on the flat of her hands, Xena stared at it for only a moment before she returned it.

“Nice blade.”

Acacius carefully stuck it back in his belt.

When he looked up at her again, Xena ignored him, lost in thought. Seconds later the husk rang out in the wooden bowl between them. Her mug, she ignored. Was she telling him to leave? Was this the end of their conversation?

“I can get you another!”

Acacius did not wait for a response, but grabbed both mugs and ran for the bar. He needed a breather anyway. She was definitely a siren -- her body language was like a snake, sinuous and enchanting. The tales always spoke of her beauty, but this was something else. Xena could conquer a man in one look.

Dropping a coin on the bar, he turned back with two fresh ales. He took a steadying breath, sure the blue of her eyes would be haunting his dreams. But he would not be swayed -- She was his ticket out of here.

Sitting back across from her, he carefully pushed her ale across the table. A simple nod was her only reply, and she took a long sip from it.

Grimacing slightly, she set it back down.

“You don’t drink?”

She shook her head, a small smile disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

“I haven’t had a drink in a very long time. Can’t tell if this is any good.”

Setting down his own, Acacius shrugged, “ehh, it’s not bad.”

She didn’t respond, merely took another sip, eyes watching him over the rim.

“So, where are you headed?”

“Me?” Acacius stuttered.

“A sword like that is not something one uses on a farm.”’

Acacius opened his mouth, and closed it again.

“I’m not sure,” he said finally, “but I need to leave this village.”

“There is no shame in being a farmer.”

Jolting, Acacius looked away. Not her. Of all people in the world, she could not say that to him. Didn’t she see his desire? He wanted to conquer life, not just live it. He would not just waste away on a farm. He was better than that!

The sound of her mug on the table was the only noise between them.

“So you want to see the world. You want to fight. Why haven’t you?”

“What?”

Xena leaned on her palms again, “You want to leave so badly, what is holding you back?”

Shrugging, Acacius took a gulp of his ale, “I don’t know...the time was never right...I mean I needed a reason.”

Her expression never changed, “and you think I’m that reason.”

“Yes!” Acacius exclaimed, “It was a sign from the gods that I saw you here!  You’re back and that must mean something is about to happen. Why else would you have been brought back? And how could I not follow the greatest warrior of Greece! You--”

He immediately clapped his mouth shut, looking around guiltily. He had been far too loud.

But her next question caught him off guard.

“You mean, why would anyone risk bringing me back?”

Acacuis shook his head, “No, that’s --”

She leaned closer, “After all, which Xena did they want?”

A shiver went down his spine.

“You mean, you think someone wanted the... the warlord?”  

She grinned, and Acacius felt the blood leave his face. It was a terrible, wicked grin. Acacius tried to stay calm. Was this the true siren looking back at him?

Was it possible he was sitting across from the Warlord Xena? The Destroyer of Nations? He opened his mouth, but words failed him.

Her eyes never left his, even as she took a last, long drink of ale. Smacking her lips, Xena slammed the mug on the table making him flinch.

“Goodbye, Acacius.”

And then she was gone, her bare feet making no sound as she left the tavern.

Hands shaking, Acacius, patted his sword, making sure it was still on his side. Oh gods, what had he done? He couldn’t let her get away! Evil or not, he had to find her. She was his ticket out of here. Digging into his pocket, Acacius thrust a coin on the table and bolted out of the tavern.

It was dusk, and the village had quieted for the night. Furious at himself, he spun around. But there was no one around, save for a goat sleeping nearby. But the dirt road was empty. Xena was gone.

He had to think. Surely she would head east to Thebes? Or maybe she-

And then everything went dark.

* * *

 

Coughing, Acacius woke with a groan. His head throbbed. And for some reason his feet were stuck in an awful position. But his legs wouldn’t move. It was the unfamiliar feel of rope rubbing against his skin that awoke him fully.

He was in a forest, and someone had tied him to a tree. Eyes wide, he was sure Morpheus was playing a trick on him.

With a deep breath, Acacius forced himself to relax; panicking was not going to help. He needed to think. He was alone, save for a small fire. Whoever had done this would be coming back.

He was in a forest, and the nearest one was only a few acres from his village. But in the fading light nothing looked familiar. He glanced up, and could just make out the sky as it turned from purple to dark blue. It was still dusk; he had not been out for long. His neck cracked from the effort, and he lowered his gaze.

His sword!

Stuck into the ground, only a few feet away, was his weapon. Hope flared within him; he could reach it. The bonds tightened as he pulled, but he no longer cared. There was no one else around; now was his time to escape.

His hands were bound before him. If he could reach the sword, then he would be free. Struggling forward, he felt the criss-cross of rope tighten on his chest and arms. The rope circled his arms, preventing him from even bending his elbows. Carefully Acacius pulled at his bonds, trying to feel for anything that felt loose.

His back was to the tree, legs were folded beneath him, which explained why they ached. He shifted, trying to move his weight off of his knees. There was a rope about his ankles, and it tugged painfully on the opposite foot each time he moved. Straining, he leaned forward, ignoring the ropes tightening around his chest. But his hands were still too far away.

Acacius swore; he was completely immobile. Panting, he relaxed back into the tree. His feet and hands were locked in place, but maybe he could wriggle his chest free. With a deep breath, Acacius exhaled, pulling in his ribcage, simultaneously rolling his left shoulder. The top rope inched upwards, and Acacius grinned.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

A shadow fell over him and Acacius froze.

“Xena!” He shouted, not sure if it was out of fear or anger.

She ignored him, heading over to her small campfire.

Crouching next to it Xena set down a pile of kindling, adding a few to the flames. Wiping her hands on her skirt, she continued to ignore him, busying herself with something he could not see. Acacius shifted in his binds; why had she kidnapped him? Fear trickled down his spine as he remembered their conversation abrupt end. Which Xena had done this to him? Was this the hero or the warlord?

A fresh smell of blood hit his nostrils, and he flinched into the rough bark of the tree.

Xena grinned, and held up the freshly skinned rabbit.

“Hungry?”

He glared at her. She shrugged, setting the carcass on the grass.

“Why am I here? Why are you doing this? Xena!”

Her head turned slowly.

“I thought you wanted to travel with me.”

Acacius flushed, suddenly grateful for the growing darkness.

“I do!”

“Then why did you lie?”

Swallowing, Acacius tried to hold her gaze. One thing was clear, lying would not be a good idea.

“I wanted to impress you,” he said finally.  

She didn’t respond.

He watched nervously as she took a pile of green saplings, and with a sharp rock began tearing them apart. His fear faded as he watched in awe as she quickly built some sort of net.

Standing she took two larger branches that had been stripped bare, and placed one on each side of the fire, ends dug into the dirt. He could see the tops had been angled, and she leaned them against each other to form an upside down V. But first she took the net and strung it between the branches before letting the branches close.

Acacius could not help but be impressed. The net would cook the rabbit above the flame while simultaneously keeping the branches from falling over. Xena set the rabbit on the spit, watching it for a moment before she seemed satisfied with her handiwork.

Acacius shifted against the tree, trying to get comfortable, but his legs and feet still throbbed. But as he hoped, the saplings had begun to smoke heavily. His friends were no doubt looking for him and hopefully they would see it.

How long would she keep him like this? Glancing again at the smoke, Acacius prayed to Hermes that Jem and the others would find them soon. But the light was fading fast, and time was running out.

The rope around his chest was digging into him, but he had to lean into it, otherwise his knees were going to explode. He needed a distraction. He also needed to figure out which Xena he was dealing with.

“You said that my hands and my sword gave me away. How?”

For a moment she did not answer. Instead Xena bent down and shook out a thick woolen blanket. He had not noticed it before. No doubt it was the one she had used to captured him with.

“As I said before, the calluses on your hand are not one of a swordsman. You’re right handed, but your left hand was just as heavily callused. Hard labor requires both.

Acacius stared down at his tied hands.

“And,” her tone softened, “I know what farm work does to your hands.”

Xena added more kindling, and the fire sparked. Then, carefully, she took hold of the rabbit and flipped it over. The smell of cooked meat wafted toward him. No, he couldn’t focus on that. Instead he found his sword, just two feet ahead of him, covered in shadow. Only by the reflection of the flames was it still visible.

“And my sword?”

She exhaled, but finally turned towards him, eyes glowing in the darkness.

“It is too big for you.”

She cut off his protest,

“You mean to use it as a gladius, but it’s too long for that style of fighting. What you carry is a Saetho, once favored by the Roman infantry. The blade is unusually long because it was held next to the shield, meant to stab at the enemy.”

The fire hissed, making him jump and immediately groan as his bonds tightened. The meat was dripping into the flame and it made his stomach grumble. It smelled delicious.

“Fifty years ago,” Xena continued, “this area was constantly being invaded. You no doubt found it buried in a field where one such battle occurred.”

She was right again. Acacius had found it almost a year ago, while clearing a new patch of land he had bartered from his neighbor. It had cost him four bushels of wheat, but its worth was closer to two. The land had been overgrown with several trees he had to clear. After ripping out the last tree, he had seen the glint of metal in the ground. It had been a sign from the gods, and the sword not left his side since.

Xena pulled the rabbit from the flames, carefully pulling off the spit. Setting the food on the grass, she sat on the blanket, absently licking at her fingers. His stomach growled again, but if she noticed she didn’t react.

Using the jagged rock, she cut into the cooked food. His eyes flicked back to his sword, wondering why she hadn’t used it. But instead of eating, Xena ignored it. He knew she was letting it cool, but the food was right in his eyeline -- she was taunting him with it.

Swallowing, he ignored his hunger. She wasn’t going to give him any. And besides he had a more pressing issue. How he was going to get free.

His hands were bound tightly, but he was sure he could reach the sword once she fell asleep. Glancing at the surrounding darkness, he prayed his friends were near. He didn’t know what to make of her. Sure, she had finally spoke to him, and he had heard no anger in her voice -- but she had also kidnapped him and tied him to a tree.

There was a ripping sound and the crunch of bone. His mouth watered, and he found her blue eyes watching him. Xena grinned, pulling meat from the bone with her teeth.

Exhausted, and still in agony, Acacius could wait no longer. His legs throbbed, and the scent of food was intoxicating.

“But why kidnap me? Why am I here?”

The sound echoed through the forest, but it didn’t even phase his captor.

Xena finished chewing, and then shrugged, “we’re waiting for your friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tried to be accurate about the Roman weapons, but don't quote me on it.


	2. Episode 1.2

All the blood left his face.

“What?”

Xena smiled, as if this were nothing more than a casual conversation.

“Don’t worry, I left a trail.”

Acacius forgot the pain in his legs.

Sweat broke out on his brow; Xena had figured it out. They had been stupid to think she wouldn’t. But how? When had he given it away? He glanced around the dark woods; would it be worth it to call for help? He stared at his sword, trying to keep calm. He could explain, he --

His voice died in his throat; Xena stood before him. He had not even heard her move.

Frozen, Acacius very much felt like the cornered prey. He could feel her her eyes on him, the dangerous gaze of the predator, and Acacius quivered beneath it. This had to be the warlord brought back to life.

"Are you going to kill me?"

She did not respond. Instead her skirt brushed his knees and she disappeared into the dark. Acacius hardly dared to breathe. A rope snapped and his whole body spasmed. But the pain never arrived. Instead the pull on his ankles was gone. He sagged forward into his bonds, fear momentarily replaced by relief.

It didn’t last.

A scream ripped from him when she took hold of his ankle and pulled his leg out from under him. He clamped his mouth shut, sure he was going to pass out. But his leg felt like a brittle twig ready to snap. Sweat broke out over his body at the new position. She crossed in front of him, and Acacius barely held in another scream. His left leg hurt just as much as she pulled it out.

The sudden release of blood to his lower half made him dizzy.

But she was not done. Taking hold of both ankles, Xena pulled his body forward, straightening his legs one last time. His butt was now on solid ground, and he collapsed against the tree too weak to even lift his head. Xena re-tied his ankles together, but Acacius didn’t know why she bothered. Breathing slowly, he tried to curl his toes. Would he ever walk again?

“Now, let’s get that blood flowing.”

She ran her hands up and down his legs roughly, and he bit back another scream.

“Why are you doing this to me?” he whispered when she finally pulled away.

The flickering firelight revealed glimpses of her, otherwise she was clothed in darkness.  But he could have sworn she tweaked his nose. Acacius tried to focus on the moving blur, until it slowly formed back into a silhouette. There was movement by the fire, and he was sure he saw Xena sit back down. His hands were heavy in his lap as unconsciousness pulled at his eyelids. The fire was dying down, and he watched the flickers of light on his sword. He paused in surprise; his arms moved.

Carefully, Acacius lifted his bound hands up and down, arms stretching as far as they could reach. Xena had also cut the rope that had bound his arms in place. He could move.

Dropping his hands back down on his lap, Acacius took a deep breath. The dying light of the fire flickered on his sword. He felt drunk, the exhaustion sinking into his bones. It was the surrender of a body that could no longer stand. Heavy and light at the same time.

“Why?” he whispered again, head bumping against the tree.

The darkness called to him.

“Go to sleep, Acacius.”

* * *

 

Acacius fell out of his dream, jerking awake. His head snapped back into the tree and he groaned at the pain. His neck protested as well. Wincing, he tried to stretch his shoulders, but that only made the muscles worse. The bolt of pain in his neck was enough to bring tears to his eyes. Grimacing, he stretched out his legs, glad at least that they no longer hurt.  

Xena!

Despite his neck, Acacius did his best to scan the forest. But the campsite was empty. The fire was nothing but coals, but it smoked faintly -- she had not been gone long. Acacius spotted the rolled up blanket and sighed in relief. Yes, Xena would be back.

Looking up, he was glad to see the early light shining through the trees. The breeze, still cool from the night before, drifted over him. He still woke with the dawn, a life of farm work allowing nothing else, but that only made him wonder when had Xena woken.

Glaring at the sword still stuck in the ground before him, Acacius kicked at it feebly. But once again he barely reached it with his bound legs.

Xena had left it there on purpose.

Acacius had managed to wake in the night, and patiently listened for the sound of her even breathing. Confident she was asleep, Acacius scooted forward, sliding his tied ankles up to the sword. But after several painful minutes Acacius realized it was fruitless. He had tried several more times, but it had only brought sweat to his brow. He was too weak to rub the ropes against the blade, his legs still too sore. The rope probably wasn’t even frayed. And so here he was, day two as Xena’s captive.

But he now suspected that his kidnapping was a ruse. Xena had figured out that he was involved in her return and had also guessed he had not done it alone.

She was using him as bait.

In the tavern he had considered her a siren, but now she was more like a sphinx. Xena was constantly testing him. So far, everything she had said and done was a riddle.

Acacius exhaled, he wasn’t doing very well. Her ability to read people was unsurpassed, and he had little doubt his friends would fall right into her trap like he had.

She wasn’t cocky about her intelligence like Jem -- no Xena was more subtle. Acacius had once heard the sayings of a distant philosopher, and it fit her well.

_Those who know do not say. Those who say do not know._

Her actions and even her silence revealed the truth for those who payed attention. Xena did not need to be loud and demanding to get what she wanted, she used her wits. Acacius grinned; she was everything they had wanted and more.

The four of them had been planning it for months. It had cost all of their money and more than one favor -- he and Tenia had even sold their small farms. But Jem swore it would be worth it.

While Kull had gone to Athens for the supplies, the rest of them had prepared the temple. How Jem knew what to do, Acacius never found out. But when Kull had arrived with the Priestess, she had approved of their work.  

And so everything seemed to fall into place. They had it all: Ingredients for the incantation, a priestess of Hades, the light of a full moon, a sacred ground to perform on -- and most importantly, Xena’s ashes.

The priestess had done the spell, and Acacius was not afraid to admit how unsettling it had been. But the sun had risen the next morning with nothing to show for it. The temple was empty save for the five of them. And there was no way they could do it again.

Something had gone wrong. Somehow they had failed to bring the Warrior Princess back from the dead.

Kull had left first, and one by one, each had given up. Jem wanted to hunt down the priestess and demand their money back. Acacius was the last to leave the empty temple, however. For some reason a flicker of hope still lived in his chest. But eventually he too accepted defeat, and slowly made his way home.

It had been pure chance that he had found her yesterday. Drowning away his sorrows in the tavern, spending the last of his coin; Acacius knew he had to decide on his next move.

No farm, no money -- his future did not look good.

And then she had walked inside the tavern.

“Morning.”

Acacius jumped, shooting a glare at Xena as she passed. Her hair was wet, and in her hands  were two large mounds of clay. She grinned, setting them next to the ashy pit.

“How are the legs?”

He grimaced, “uhh, better.”

A smell hit his nostrils and Acacius sneezed. Xena was relighting the fire, but that was not what he smelled. When had she caught fish?

Taking a mound of clay, Xena patted it down, watching at the fire sparked and caught. Acacius could tell it would not last long, but she made no move to add more kindling. It was a warm, sunny day, what did she need to relight the coals for? It would not be hot enough to bake the clay.

Before he could ask, however, his stomach grumbled loudly.

A meaty rabbit leg was tossed into his lap and he immediately scooped it up with his bound hands. All other thoughts were forgotten. Cold rabbit had never tasted so good.

“Eat up. We have a busy day.”

But Acacius was already eating, tearing at the meal with a fury.

The smell hit him again, and his reaction caught her eye.

She smirked, placing a mound of clay in the lit coals. The other one followed, and Acacius could hear the hiss as fire met the damp earth.

“Lunch,” she explained, using a stick to push coals over the clay, “should be ready in time for your friends.”

Nodding mutely, Acacius realized she was baking fish inside the clay. The clay didn’t need to bake, just the fish inside.

Swallowing another tendon of meat, he almost wanted to roll his eyes. It made sense, of course, but the bards had never mentioned Xena’s talents in campside meals. Or, he shifted, her efficiency with tying people to trees.

Now she sat in a nice sunny spot, pulling over another pile of sticks. Xena pulled the rabbit pelt onto her lap. It had recently been washed and scraped.

Meticulously she began angling sticks inside the pelt, stretching it out to dry. Licking the bone clean, Acacius couldn’t help but watch. Using the sharp rock, she cut another sapling down, and though he couldn’t see well, he guessed it was to tie everything in place.

“You keep using that rock. But why not my sword?”

Xena glanced up, setting the pelt in a patch of sun. She twirled the rock in her fingers, before using it to slice into the the remainder of the rabbit. His mouth watered as she stood and brought it closer. Dropping the first bone, he eagerly took the second helping.

Xena held the rock for him to see “at the moment this rock is far more useful.”

“Why?” he managed to ask between bites.

With lighting movement, Xena pulled the sword from the dirt. She swung it easily, twisting the sword in a wide arc, “What did I tell you about this sword.”

Swallowing, Acacius licked his lips, “you said it was a Roman sword. A Saetho. Used by their infantry to stab at the enemy.”

“Yes, and that means,” the sword plunged between his ankles “only the tip needed to be sharp.”

Acacius clenched his eyes shut, expecting pain. Blood. Something.

Slowly he opened his eyes, careful not to choke on the strip of meat still in his mouth. The sword had stabbed right through his binds. The space between his ankles only just fit the sword, the cool metal brushing his boots. But he was unhurt. Pulling his legs apart, Acacius tried to catch his breath.

Xena crouched down to eye level, blue eyes twinkling, and gripped the sword with her bare hand. Then she ran it down the blade.

He flinched, but when she revealed her palm it was not even red.

Patting his leg, Xena stood and dusted off her hands.

“You finished?”

Acacius nodded mutely, bone clenched in his fist. Once again he had underestimated her. Of course Xena had left the sword there to taunt him. She knew the sword was dull and he wouldn’t be able to cut free.  

Pulling the sword free again, Xena gave it a casual swing, far too close for his liking. She was just like a cat, he realized, either playing with her food or ignoring it entirely.

Xena disappeared behind the tree, and the rope around his chest went slack.

“Alright, let’s get you up.”

Hauled to his feet, Acacius bit back another scream. His body quivered, and he was sure he might fall. Taking hold of his hands, the Warrior Princess quickly untied them. His fingers were stiff, but the blood flow had not been cut off like his legs. Arms crossed, she stood before him, waiting. Acacius had one hand against the tree, but his legs had not yet collapsed. He took an uneven step, and then another.

“Stream is that way,” Xena nodded to her left and turned away.

“Wait...” Acacius took another step, “don’t you think I’ll run?”

Turning back, the Warrior Princess raised an eyebrow.

“Will you?”

She didn’t wait for a response. Swinging his sword, Xena whistled a tune, leaving him in the shade.

He stared after her, still not sure this was some elaborate dream sent by Morpheus. Acacius bit back a grin. Yes, this was definitely the good Xena, the Xena of legend.

Stumbling, he headed into the forest, listening for the sound of running water.

* * *

Glancing at the woods around them, Acacius wondered again how Xena was certain his friends were coming. Kull was a good hunter and tracker, but there were far too many factors to consider. Beside the fire from last night, there was no real sign of their whereabouts. Did they even notice he was missing? But Xena had been right about everything else so far.

He couldn’t help cracking a smile, out of the three, it was Jem who would be the most surprised. As the leader of their unofficial crew, Jem had become rather annoying, complete with a cocky attitude. But he was no match to the Warrior Princess. She was a natural.

Xena sat cross legged, methodically sharpening his sword with a stone. It was not the sharp rock from before, but one she had found in the riverbed. Despite being buried for the past thirty years or so, she was impressed with it’s quality. Acacius couldn’t help but be proud.

Finding a patch of sun, Acacius carefully sat down near her, legs protesting the position. He was still weak, but the food in his belly was helping. Rubbing his hands, he flexed them until the knuckles cracked. The skin of his wrists were red from where he had pulled at the ropes, but that was already fading. Acacius rubbed at his neck, hours had passed and he still couldn’t turn his head to the right. He never wanted to sleep against a tree again.

He glanced over to where the fish were cooking, stomach rumbling again. The smell of baked fish was strong. But Acacius suspected it was more than just a meal. If Jem and the others were out there, they would surely smell it. But it had been a few hours and they had still not arrived. Acacius could not take the silence any longer. Glancing at Xena, the question fell from his mouth.

“Were you really at the battle of Troy?”

The Warrior Princess glanced at him, never pausing in her task.

“Yes.”

“And you knew Helen, the face that launched a thousand ships?”

Her lips pursed, “I knew her before that, when she was still married to Menelaus -- I had had a few dealings with him. After she arrived in Troy I received a message asking for help. I got her out before...before the worst of the fighting.”

Acacius shook his head, “but I thought she loved Paris?”

Xena sighed, “Helen realized that Paris was just another powerful man using her like a pawn. So she left.”

Acacius had grown up hearing tales of the war and the love story that had sparked it. He and Jem had been in quite a few debates about which legends were true and which were not - especially this one. but Xena's explanation did not align with any bard’s tale. 

Helen had disappeared after the battle, but most legends said she escaped with the royal family. But they had taken refuge in Rome and Helen had not been with them. No one knew what had happened to the most beautiful woman in the world... except Xena.

Acacius ran a hand through his hair, “is it true you killed the gods in Olympus?”

She nodded absently.

“And you were really cursed to sleep for 25 years? That happened?”

Xena paused, a strange look crossing her face, “yes, it was definitely a curse.”

Acacius fell silent. He and Jem had argued for days about the truth of Xena’s cursed sleep. And all of it was true. Amazed, he dared glancing at her again. How had this even happened? How had he come to sitting beside the legendary Xena?

Picking at a stem of grass, Acacuis finally asked the question that had plagued him all night.

“How did you know that is was me?”

Xena continued to sharpen the sword, but she responded nonetheless.

“You were too eager.”

For a moment the slow twang of metal was the only sound.

Noting his confusion, she explained,“You recognized me in the tavern.”

He shook his head, “but I knew what you looked like from the stories... you’re a legend.”

A sad expression crossed her face and she set down the sword.

“How old do I look?”

Acacius bit his lip, “um, around my age?”

Xena’s lip quirked, “At the battle of Troy I was 27 years old. And when I died in Japa? I was 34.”

She smirked at his stunned silence, and took up his sword again.

There was no doubt in his mind that she was Xena, but the woman before him was young. Too young. She looked no more than eighteen, certainly not someone in her thirties. He stared at her openly now, the pieces falling into place.

No bard had ever been specific on dates and some even claimed Xena was immortal -- but she was human, and therefore must have aged. But it had never even crossed his mind. She had walked into the tavern and Acacuis just knew.

“So, I recognized you... even though you should be much older. That's how you knew.”

Acacius watched her stand, expertly twisting and spinning the sword. He could tell by how it shone that it was much sharper. But watching her move through another routine, the revelation of her age returned to his mind. Why was she so young? The spell had obviously worked, but something else must have happened. But what?

His neck twinged and Acacius swore, forcing himself to stare straight ahead.

“Your neck?”

Acacius could not help the shiver that went up his back. The Warrior Princess was standing right behind him, her frayed dress brushing against his back.

“Yes,” he whispered.

And then her fingers were on his neck. Strong and sure, they prodded at the sore muscles carefully. He flinched when her other hand tilted his head to the side.

“Hold still.”

Her fingers jabbed into his neck.

“Aye!”

Grabbing his neck, Acacius sprung out of her reach. What was that for? Glaring at the Warrior Princess, he realized that he could turn his head.

Cautiously, he turned his head back and forth. How had she done that? It didn’t hurt. It was hardly even sore.

He never got the chance to ask because right then Xena froze. She stared out into the woods for a long moment, like a cat waiting to pounce. And then she grinned, the same grin that had terrified him in the tavern.

“Tell me,” Xena gave his sword a casual swing, “one of your friends, do they work in a stable?”

Staring out into the woods, Acacius nodded.

“Yeah, Kull.”

She nodded, then waved him over to the tree. Stabbing the sword back into the earth, Xena picked up the abandoned rope.

“Ready?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Name pronunciation:
> 
> Acacius: A-kay-shus (at least that's how I've been saying it)  
> His is the only name that is ancient Greek. It means 'Good/Not Evil'
> 
> .... I got lazy with the other names *shrugs*


	3. Episode 2

Shifting against the tree, Acacius had to admit he did not mind this position as much. His hands were tied above his head but Xena had left his feet unbound. He was the bait, after all, and had to look the part.

A patch of sun had crept through the branches and Acacius unsuccessfully wiped his face with his sleeve. His sword was back, stuck in the ground before him; Xena had only smirked when he asked why she was leaving it. He glanced around again, wondering where she had gone. The Warrior Princess had just disappeared.  

“Acacius!”

Twisting his head around, he found Kull, Jem and Tenia running towards him.

“By the gods,” Jem whispered, “what happened to you?”

Kull disappeared behind the tree, and Acacius felt his bonds loosen.

“Was it slavers? We heard from Filipus --”

Acacius shook his head, “No! You don’t understand--.”

But Jem ignored him, “we’re getting you out of here, Come on. Where’s the girl?”

Acacius froze, “what?”

Tenia had a hand on her sword, eyeing the campsite uneasily, “Filipus said you were with a girl. Was she taken too?”

Acacius laughed nervously, amazed at how well Xena had predicted their actions.

Kull came around the tree, bow notched with an arrow.

“We should leave.”

Jem nodded, “Ok, forget about the girl. Can you walk?”

Acacius pulled away, “No, wait! She is--”

He felt rather than saw Xena drop out of the tree above them.  Acacius yelled as Kull shot, but it was too late.

Jem swore softly and Acacius turned slowly, afraid at what he would see.

Xena, face expressionless, held the arrow in her hand.

For a moment no one moved.

Kull had gone pale. He had grown up with the tale of the warrior woman who caught arrows with her bare hands. He knew who stood before them.

And from the look on Tenia’s face, she had also made the connection. Her sword had lowered after Kull shot, and now it slipped from her fingers into the grass.

“Who are you? Why did you kidnap my friend?”

Jem, never one to be intimidated, had not flinched. But unlike the Warrior Princess it was all bravado.

Cocking her head to the side, Xena was once again the siren. She swayed towards him, twirling the arrow in her hand, blue eyes bright and deadly.

“You don’t know me?” the arrow fell into the grass, “I’m hurt. After all, you’re the one who brought me here.”

Acacius tried to catch his friend’s eye, but to no avail. Taking Jem by the hand, the Warrior Princess ran her thumb over his palm, staring deep into his eyes,  

“You smell like incense.”

Eyes wide, Jem tore his hand away.

“No, you can’t be,” he took a step back, “the spell, it--it failed.”

The siren exterior faded back into the warrior. Even while barefoot and weaponless, she managed to look intimidating.

But Jem continued to shake his head.

“You can’t be her! Xena is tall and--and fierce! She can destroy anyone in her path! She killed gods with her bare hands... even Ares feared her!”

At that Xena smirked, but Acacius prayed Jem would shut up, “How are you supposed to help us? You are just a woman! A girl!”

Xena grinned and Acacius went pale. This was not going to end well.

“Sorry to disappoint.”

Jem reached for his dagger, but her hand shot out and gripped his wrist.

“Careful.”

Wrenching his arm free, the idiot that he was, ignored her warning.

“If you’re her, the Warrior Princess, then prove it.”

Xena didn’t move, but her eyes flashed in annoyance. Acacius was at a loss; everyone else had seen the truth. Why not Jem?

“Acacius.”

He jumped at her voice, “yes?”

“The rope.”

Climbing to his feet, Acacius ignored Jem’s look of betrayal. Quickly he wound up the rope that had kept him tied in place, looking up as Jem struck.

He lunged, dagger high, but Xena simply caught his wrist again.

Her foot rose to his chest, and she flung him backwards, releasing his arm as he fell. Swearing, Jem landed in a heap. Tenia and Kull moved out of his way, both looking as nervous as Acacius felt.

Jem climbed to his feet, face red,

“Fight me! If you’re Xena, fight!”

Face blank, she did not move.

“Jem!” it was Tenia. But Jem shook his head, anger in his eyes.

Acacius wanted to look away as Jem rushed at her again, dagger raised. He held his breath, waiting for Xena to slip out of the way. But she didn’t move. At the last second, she knocked the dagger from his hand simultaneously spinning into his path. With far too much ease, Xena took hold of his arm and flipped him over her back.

Jem landed with a sickening crunch, that left him red and wheezing. With the grace of a predator, Xena swept around his prostrate body, as Jem tried to catch his breath.

With a hoarse yell, Jem tried to kick. But it was a bad angle and Xena had been expecting it.

Jem swore at her, breath ragged,

“I still don’t believe you!”

Xena stared at him with disinterest, a firm grip on his ankle,

“I don't care."

Pinching two fingers into the flesh behind his knee, Xena released his leg. It fell like a stone, and despite the struggle in his eyes, his leg would not move. It lay still on the grass as if it were not even attached to his body.

Bending to a knee, Xena caught his wrists and easily pushed him flat.

His arms were crossed over his chest and Jem struggled uselessly. Slowly, Xena pushed his arms into his neck, pressing down hard. Jem struggled to breathe, panic in his eyes. His able leg flailed, but it was no use. Acacius leapt forward, but Jem had already collapsed.

Xena stood and dusted off her hands, oblivious to the shocked faces watching. Her hands were stained red from the clay and as she stood over Jem’s prostrate form, and Acacius could not help being afraid.  

It was Tenia who broke the silence, asking what Acacius could not.

“Did you kill him?”

Her bare feet made no sound as Xena plucked Jem’s dagger from the grass, inspecting its quality.

“No. You’re friend is not dead. But he is going to have a very painful night.”

Xena glanced to where Kull and Tenia stood, casually spinning the dagger in her hand.

“Surrender your weapons,” Xena continued, “or join him”.

Realizing what she meant, Acacius shook his head vigorously. Kull hurriedly set his bow and sheath on the grass while Tenia held her palms up in surrender.

“Good.”

Xena inspected the dagger, casually stepping over Jem’s unconscious body. She nodded to him and Acacius hurried over with the rope. It was an unconscious decision, that surprised even himself. Acacius could not deny the desire to be by her side.

Xena twirled the dagger one last time before she turned and threw it. He felt it split the air, digging deep into the bark of the nearest tree.

She appeared to be satisfied and took the rope from his stiff fingers. Letting out a contented sigh, she began to twist it into a knot.

She flashed him a grin, “Your friend was right though, I used to be taller.”

* * *

 

The fish had cooked nicely, the scales peeling off with the hardened clay. Silently he sent the prayer of thanks to Hestia, unsure if Xena would mind.

It was a new taste, and he was careful not to burn his tongue as hunger took over. Xena had sharpened Jem’s dagger to her liking and then split a fish between them. Fingers hot, Acacius took his time, letting pieces cool on the grass. Not five feet away, Tenia and Kull sat waiting for Xena to do... something. They were silent, waiting for Xena to make the first move. He assumed the second baked fish was for them, but Xena had not said anything. Instead it sat beside Jem, steaming faintly.

Hours after tying up Jem, Xena had fallen silent. Lost in thought, she ate slowly, facing away from the captives. He was the only one moving around.

Besides Kull’s bow, Tenia’s sword and Jem’s dagger, the only other item of use was Tenia’s water skin.

With the hot sun it had come in handy, Acacius constantly running back to the stream. Kull and Tenia, though silent, had been grateful for the water-- the day had quickly become hot.

Now, at least, shade from the forest had stretched over them all with it came a light, cool breeze.

The only one not yet aware of it was Jem.

Acacius could not help glancing back.

Jem was tied up the same way Acacius had been. Jem looked as if he was in prayer. His unconscious body was held up by ropes around his chest, hands bound before him, knees tucked under. Had that only been yesterday? Even thinking of it made his legs throb.

Xena had removed Jem’s shirt before tying him to the tree. She gave no explanation, and Acacius knew better then to ask. He knew well enough that she had a reason. More than ever, Acacius was glad to be in her favor. Whatever Xena had done to Jem’s leg was unnerving, and Acacius couldn't help but rub at his neck. 

“Xena?”

A slight turn of her head was the only response.

“Why... why couldn't Jem believe that you’re you?”

Xena exhaled, leaning back on her elbows.

“It's what happens when you meet you hero and find out they are merely human.”

She said it so simply, as if it were fact. As if it were true.

“But you are Xena! I knew it right away when I saw you! You are a champion! You are!”

But the Warrior Princess only shrugged, staring out into the forest. 

Somehow he had gained her trust and Acacius was glad of it. He had no doubt she could have killed them all in a matter of seconds. But she had not hurt them. Even Jem was merely unconscious. Yet, something troubled her. Acacius could not read her expression, but Xena was definitely caught on something. He assumed she was angry about the ritual. But why? They had brought her back from the dead - wasn’t that a good thing?

The silence was broken as Xena, with a flick of her wrist, smashed the dagger’s hilt onto the clay. Acacius jumped, and he was not the only one. The clay cracked, releasing a wonderful aroma with the hot steam.  

With cat-like agility, Xena rose to her feet. Glancing at Acacius, she motioned for him to grab the hot food. Nodding, he picked it up and clambered to his feet.

In a few strides she stood in front of Tenia and Kull. Acacius sat next to her, avoiding his friends eyes.

Handing him the knife, she gazed at the two captives.

“I do not know your names.”

Licking her lips nervously, Tenia glanced at him, as if for approval.

“Tenia.”

Xena nodded.

“You have a nice blade. Not sharp,“ she glanced at Acacius, “but still a good fit. I’m going to borrow it for the night.”

Tenia flushed, and nodded. Acacius had never seen her this quiet before. He caught her eye, and Tenia glared, fully aware of what he was thinking.

Xena turned her attention to Kull.

“You’re the hunter. You found my trail quickly. Impressive.”

His expression was more guarded than Tenia.

Kull had never killed anything other than game and it had been pure instinct to fire when Xena had dropped from the tree. He was still in shock and Acacius could only imagine what was going through his mind.

His father had met Xena as a young boy, she had saved his life from raiders. Since then his whole family idolized the Warrior Princess, despite their pacifist beliefs. She meant more to them than any of the gods. And when his father had died last year in a raid, Kull had nearly gone mad with grief.

It was why he had wanted to bring her back.

“My name is Kull,” he said finally.

Xena stared at Kull a moment longer, and his dark eyes did not look away. For a moment it looked like she might smile.

Rising to her feet, Xena rested a hand on his shoulder. It was only for a moment, but Acacius was sure he had turned to stone.

Her bare feet stepped around Kull and she took up Tenia’s sword.

“Save some for your friend."

Stepping back into the clearing she gave it a casual swing, the same movements he had seen her doing earlier. Acacius slowly turned back, recognizing that Xena was done talking.

With only a little hesitation Acacius tore open the clay. Carefully he peeled back chunks of it, revealing the hot meat within.

Slicing a piece free, he offered some to Kull. His lips moved silently, as he too gave thanks to Hestia. Tenia, meanwhile, simply cupped the food in her hands and ate.

“Mighty Olympus.”

Both Kull and Tenia were watching Xena train. Acacius silently agreed, handing Kull another piece.

Tenia wiped at her mouth, taking a drink from the skin. How she had ended up here, Acacius had no idea. The girl had grown up an orphan in Thebes. But a year ago she had married a man in the village, only for him to die over the winter.

“Why is she so young?”

His mouth fell open, “how did you--”

Tenia rolled her eyes. Judging by Kull’s expression, he hadn’t noticed either.

“Was it the spell?”

Shaking his head, Acacius glanced back, “I don’t know.”

All three were silent as they watched her move. The slice of metal through air stood out from the sounds of the forest, and the blade nothing but a blur.

A week ago all of them had given up hope. And yet, here she was. The Warrior Princess born again.

Tenia bit her lip, “What’s going to happen to Jem?”

Glancing again to their unconscious friend, Acacius shuddered.

“She knows it was his idea. I don’t know how -- I haven’t told her a thing. And she hasn’t asked.”

Kull stiffened, and they all watched Xena head over to where Jem still hung. Pausing a few feet in front of him she plunged the sword into the dirt.

Acacius swallowed, Jem was certainly going to be in for a very rough night.

Her head turned, perfectly aware that they had been watching.

“We need to talk.”

* * *

 An hour or so later the story had largely been explained.

Xena had lit the fire giving the camp a comfortable amount of light as dusk fell. Jem was still unconscious, though his face looked pained. Acacius had to stop looking.

“It was not your ritual that brought me back.”

For a moment no one moved.

“He," Xena glanced back at Jem," has a scar on his hand from the burner. His shirt still smells like it. But it was not incense. At least, not proper incense. She merely wanted you to believe it was." she motioned to the crumpled shirt, "what she used was a plant from the east called opium. It is very powerful. Many of their mystics use it for divination.”

Tenia shook her head, “what?"

With an unused branch, Xena poked at the fire, “The ritual. Did you feel as if you were dreaming?”

Acacius went pale. He had woken after the ritual convinced he had fallen into Tartarus. It was as if the gods had tried to rip the spirit from his body.

Tenia hugged herself, “It was like nothing I’ve ever felt. I was floating and falling at the same time... I thought Hades was punishing us.”

Seeing Kull nod in agreement made Acacius felt slightly better. He never wanted to feel that way again.

Xena did not look surprised,“Even if she were a true priestess --”

Once again his voice echoed around the campsite.

“What?”

 “She was not a servant of Hades,” Xena’s eyes flicked to his, "Jem met the Priestess in Athens, yes? And Kull, you brought her back for the equinox. How did you travel?”

Kull looked confused, “by horse. It would have taken much longer to walk.”

“And how much did the priestess charge?”

Acacius shrugged, “we paid for the ingredients, her trip from Athens, and extra for--” he trailed off. Xena’s ashes had been the main cost.

“How much?”

Tenia bit her lip, “Around 100 dinars. Acacius and I, we sold our farms.”

Adding more kindling to the fire, Xena looked pensive.

“What do we do when someone dies?”

The sudden change in discussion, threw him. Her eyes bore into his and he realized he was staring at the sphinx. What did they do when someone died? Their was mourning, burial, the coins...

“We leave coins on their eyes. So that they can pay Charon.”

Xena nodded, “And Hades, how does he travel?”

Kull answered; “Chariot.”

The Warrior Princess nodded again, “Those who serve Hades cannot handle coin and they are not allowed to ride a horse. Those are reserved for the God, and so they abstain from both.”

They all fell silent. The woman had lied? But she had worn the garb of a Priestess, and even knew all the prayers. It was blasphemy to impersonate a servant to the Gods. It was incomprehensible. How had she not been struck down by Hades himself?

Kull glanced uneasily to where Jem hung motionless. The Priestess had met Jem first, months before. He had returned with the story, about their shared love of the warrior Princess. And that was how it had started. 

“Why would someone do that?”

Kull’s tone matched his own turmoil. Xena was quiet, though her expression revealed the same question was on her mind.

The crackling fire had begun to burn his right side and Acacius shifted, only to stare straight at Jem. Thankfully the man was still unconscious. He certainly would not take this news well.

Blue eyes glowing from the firelight, the sphinx grinned.

“Even if she had been a true priestess, it still would not have worked.”

 “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t it have worked?"

This time it was Kull, and Xena held his gaze for a long moment. 

“Because, I wasn’t in Hades.”


End file.
